


initial

by AikoIsari



Series: Digimon No Verse [18]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon World Series, Digimon Xros Wars | Digimon Fusion
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Family, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AikoIsari/pseuds/AikoIsari
Summary: He is the stop gap, the answer, the person who may have been or may not have been. He's not sure, but he certainly isn't Pinocchio, right? Crossed with Next 0rder.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Antartique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antartique/gifts).



> Experimental fic inspired by mistaken identity on Ao3 by Antartique! Go check it out!

He's like a son to her, even though that's probably not true, they look nothing alike. She finds him in the golden light, the piece of the puzzle that no one has and she smiles. She smiles so soft and warm and yet it's also very well practiced. She teaches him how the same way she was taught by people much kinder than her, she says.

He practices hard. He can't let her down. No more. The world has done that


	2. ii

He crawls and he walks and he runs, and these supposed great milestones come with ease. She laughs like you are her son, even though her hair is tinted more and she is free to dance in the sun. She laughs when he asks what words mean (a laugh at the world not at him) and cries and tells him of fragmented days spent hunched over a screen and looking at a monster. She thinks it might be a part of him now, as he is cobbled together by all things with kindness as his glue. He thinks she kisses his forehead out of some nostalgia.

Not that he knows what it means.

He thinks.

She speaks.

He learns.

She calls him 'human in all ways'. He doesn't know what that means either.


	3. iii

He wanders the world with two cats on his shoulders. Sometimes one, sometimes none. He wanders and he thinks 'i am pieces of this' or 'i could have been made from that'.

The trouble is that he _doesn't know_ and the woman admits she doesn't either.

That doesn't make sense to him, because she knows so much. It might as well be everything.

She picks him up despite his size, and plants him in front of her laptop screen and she shows him the sea.

It's beautiful and green in certain lights. Like his eyes, she says.

He thinks he understands a little.


	4. iv

He wanders .

Sometimes there's a voice with him while he does. He doesn't like it much. It smells and tastes like rotten taffy and he knows what it tastes like, friends gave it to him on a dare and hepuked it up like the fool he is.

All over mama's floor. And she vanished it with a wave of her hand and a gentle head pat, chiding, but also worrying.

He doesn''t want her to worry but still he must tell her about the voices. If he doesn't no one will know and bad things will happen. He's sure. He's sure.

She listens. She listens like he's watched humans listen to the cries of sirens. She listens and she nods, thoughtfully.

'Then we must look,' she says and he smiles. How could he not have thought of that?


End file.
